Monday, October 29, 2007

Big News

Flush with victory over the duel with Count Dooku, Anakin Skywalker saunters over to Padme’s home to tell her the good news.

"Yo Padme! Hey! Where is you at? Have I got some super dope news to lay on you.”

“Ani! You’re okay!!!”

“Shuh! You’re damn straight I am. Which is a damn sight better than I can say for that decrepit old Jedi I just ganked.”

“You…killed Master Yoda?”

“What? Oh hell no. Count Dooku. Ya know…the one that always smells of Old Spice and fish sticks.”

“…Master Windu?”

“No no. It was- Shoot! Didn’ts ya hear it on the news? Didn’t ya see me mug the camera for all it was worth? Man, I hope my hair was illin’. I’d hate to think everyone saw the Chosen One with crunked up hair and spit.”

“No…no I wasn’t watching the….I mean, I had other things on my mind.”

“Damn girl, seeing you right now makes me get only one thing on my mind. Damn girl! You is sportn’ some fine bagels in yours hair.”

”Oh, you like them? It’s the new look. Everyone is wearing them.”

“Oh yeah…they is fine. I’d butter your bagels anytime fly-girl. Now come on over here and show your man some sugar.”

“Ani…we…need to talk.”

“Okay…we can say freaky things to each other while we…”

“No. I mean we really have to talk. It’s important. It can’t wait.”

“Oh…so it’s like that is it.”

“Anakin…I-I don’t quite know how to say this. We’ve been so quiet about our…relationship. So discreet. But now…everything’s changed.”

“What do you mean, babe? I haven’t changed. I’m still your souped up gangsta love monkey.”

“No. I’ve changed. Something has happened. Something wonderful. I-I hope you think it’s wonderful too.”

“Ya gots tickets ta Snoop Hutt?”

“No. I’m…expecting.”

“So you’re expecting to get tickets to Snoop Hutt.”

“No. It’s not that. It’s…as they say, the rabbit died.”

“What? Ya had to kill a rabbit to get tickets to Snoop Hutt?”


“Damn, that’s cold. Even I wouldn’t go offing some poor defenseless bunny. That is unless it was some evil Sith bunny then I wouldst like slice in two like I did-“

“Ani! Listen to me. This is important.”

“Hell, I’m trying ta listen to ya, girl. But you ain’t makin’ no sense. Did you or did you ain’t get no Snoop Hutt tickets?”

“Ani…I’m with child.”

Anakin scans the room quickly. “You’re with a youngling? Where the hell is he at? He better not be hidin’ in the bathroom. I gots ta drop a duce pretty soon.”

“No Ani, I’m in a family way.”

“You in whoz family’s way?”

“Ani…can’t you tell…I’m knocked up!”

“Some one knocked ya up side the head? Sonofa…when I find out who-“

“Damn it, Anakin. I’m pregnant!!!”


“…With a child.”


“With your child.”

‘Woah! Whoah! Whoh!!! Now hold on there. There ain’t no way you can pin that on me.”

“Anakin…what are you saying? It’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone but you.”

“Shuh! How do I know that? Damn girl, you could have been with half the Jedi council while I’ve been out fightin’ the Sith and spit.”

“Please Ani…you have to believe me…It’s yours. It can’t be anyone else’s but yours.”

“Oh, it can’t, huh? Well…what about….what about…uh….Obi!”

“Obi Wan Kenobi?”
”Oh yeah! Don’t tell me you haven’t been dreamin’ about lickin’ those crusty Cheetos dusted fingers of his. I’ve seen the way you look at em.”

“How…how can you say that? After all we have gone through.”

“Hey don’t be messin’ with my head with those tears of yours. No one traps the Chosen One.”

“I’m not trying to trap you. It’s the truth.”

“Save it for your Kenobi knockwurst. There ain’t no way you’re gonna pin your secret love tryst child on me. Come ta think of it, I’m surprised at ya! Of all people ta go behind my back with…my own Jedi Master!”

“oh….oh Ani! How could you?!?!?”

Covering her face, Padme races out of the room in tears. Anakin just stands and watches her leave. After a moment or two, he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a “spice” cigarette and lights it up.

“Well, that went pretty good.”

Monday, October 22, 2007

Dropping the Dooku

In the midst of a terrible battle high above Coruscant, Two lone Jedi’s somehow…inexplicably entered the flag ship of Count Dooku without anyone noticing them. (See the question of the week).

Now, deep inside the droid infested halls, Obi Wan and his padawan Anakin Skywalker (aka the chosen one, aka teh gangsta Jedi, aka Palpatine’s whipping boy…) make a dash to Count Dooku’s personal chambers without drawing any attention to them. Unfortunately, Obi Wan happened to have seen his favorite ride and had to go for a spin or two.

“Master, we gots ta get a move on it. Don’t you think you’ve had enough ‘spin-the-Jedi’ time? Bissides…we’re running out of quarters and I aints spotting you any more money until you pay me back for those Puff-n-Stuff mail order leotards.”

“Oh…darn. Very well. I guess we should head on over and deal with Count Dooku now.”

“Shuh! Ya think?”

“C’mon. I know exactly where he’s at. I can feel a disturbance in the Force. Oh wait…that’s the room spinning. I…I think I’ma gonna…gonna….RRRRRoooollllllllfff!!”

“Dude, I am not cleaning that up.”

Twenty minutes and three breath mints later, the two Jedis finally find their way to the inner sanctum of Count Dooku. With lightsabers blazing, they force their way in for the final confrontation. Inside they see Chancellor Palpatine chained to a chair and tauntingly surrounded by Little Dooku snacks. “oh thank heaven you’ve arrived,” he gasped. “Count Dooku here was about to force feed me some of his expired snacks again.”

“That’s no prob, Palps. That’s why we is here. Ain’t that right, Obs?”

“That an the dryer.”

“Ah….Obi Wan Kenobi. And Anakin Skywalker. I was wondering who they were going to send.” Count Dooku smirked as he walked closer to them; his red lightsaber a-glow. “The Jedi Council must truly be desperate to be sending in the likes of you two. A pity. I was so looking forward to showing off some of my new tricks.”

“The only tricks you’re gonna do, ya ol geezer, are the kinds they do downtown on the street corner for a buck fifty.”

“…? That doesn’t even make sense, dear boy.”

“Whateves. It sounded cool. That’s all that matters.”

“Enough of this," Obi Wan stammered. "Count Dooku, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Chancellor Palpatine. Come with us quietly or we will be forced to use the Force.”

“oh my. And I was so trying not to have your asses served to you by an ‘old geezer’. Very well. Let’s have it now.”

The two Jedi advanced cautiously. Count Dooku stood his ground. Suddenly, the two Jedi struck only to be parried by the Count’s own lightsaber.

“Is that the best you two can do? My basset hound can fight better than this.”

“Your basset hound or yo mama!!”


“Shuddup. Whateves. I’m improvising.”

“Anakin, we must separate and take him from both sides,” Obi Wan directed.

“No probs, master. I’ll keep him occupied and you just wail on him.”

While Anakin and Dooku fight vigorously, Obi Wan calculates the right time to attack. When he sees his opening he lunges forward…then suddenly…

“Oh….oh…the room is spinning again…I…..I…” The Jedi steps on his robes and slips on the slick metal floor. Within moments his head cracks on the floor and he is out cold.

“I’m afraid, dear boy, that it’s just us two again. I do look forward to taking your other hand. You know, I still have your first hand back at my villa. I use it to wipe my ass, you know.”

“Arrrrrrrrgh!” Filled with rage at the thought of his old hand touching the decrepit Jedi’s pimply ass, Anakin flings himself at him with all his might and anger. All the while, Palpatine watches with glee in his eye.

“Damn it! Will someone wipe this glee out of my eye, I can’t see. Ah, that’s better. Yes…yes….use your hate Anakin. It makes you stronger.”

“Come now, young Jedi,” Dooku spoke between thrusts. “What do you care if he lives or dies? He took everything from me. My snacks…my Rooku McDooku franchise…my limited edition gold plated Sigmund and the Sea Monster tricycle. What else do I have to live for?”

“I don’t care what kinda gripes ya got with ol Palps. I’m just here to even the score…with your hand!”

“Oh, and I suppose a young upstart like yourself actually thinks he could take off a hand from a mighty Sith Lord such as myself? I would sooner believe…


“?!?! That…that was my yo-yo hand. How? How…how am I to use my new yo-yo now?”


“My…my other hand….my dueling hand…how did…?”


“Oh dear…that was my good soccer foot. Now you’ve really done it. I’m going to…”


“That was my brandy snifter nose…”


“my…my nudging elbow…”


“My dancing leg….”


“My…my Twi’lek ticker….oh I should say I’m going to dearly miss that too…”


“My ass kicking leg. I…I give! I give!!!”

“No. Finish him Anakin.” Palpatine prompted. “Kill him. Kill him now.”

“But sir…that would be unkind.”

“Oh, and leaving me a blood stump is just fine and dandy, is it?” Count Dooku whimpered squirming on the ground with blood spirting everywhere.

“Shuddup! It’s only a flesh wound.” Anakin shot back.

“You must finish him,” Palpatine continued. “He is just a blood stump. How can a Sith Lord with no legs or hands be of any use to me?”

“I….I can’t. It’s just not right.”

“You know....He had sex with your mother.


And the head of Count Dooku rolls lifelessly away.

“Good. Now undo these manacles that I could have so easily slipped out of any time I wanted to but needed you to do it for me.”

Anakin obeys. “man, I got his blood all over my illin’ black clothes. You know how hard it is to get blood stains out of threads like these.”

“Oh believe me, I do. ahem. I mean...Never mind that. I’ll buy you some new ones. We must leave the ship. I just heard the main reactor blow. It won’t be long before this ship plummets to the ground.”

“Wait. What about Obi Wan?”

“Leave him. One less redneck Jedi in the world.”

“I can’t leave him. He still owes me money.”

“Very well. But we must hurry. I feel that General Grievous has left the ship. There is no one left to pilot it. We must leave before…”

“What do you mean no one left to pilot it? Who do you think you’re talkin’ to?”

Palpatine glanced over towards Anakin with wide innocent eyes. “Why….the most super fly gangsta Jedi Chosen One space pilot with the most illin’ bling bling robo-claw around.”

“You’re damn right, fool. Now get me to the bridge. I’ll land this hunk o junk.”

Within minuets they reach the deserted bridge. Anakin takes the wheel and tries desperately to take control. Out side, the ship blazes in a fireball hurtling towards the ground.

“We’re coming in too fast. We’ll burn up. We need to cool off somehow.”

“Not if I can help it, Palps. I just called the space port to send us some cooling ships to dowse us but good.”

“Mere water will do nothing to this glowing hull. We’re doomed.”

“If they use water maybe. But these guys are professionals. They use the one liquid that can withstand the hottest temperatures of Tatooine and still hold up under pressure. Bantha urine!!!”

“There, that ought to do it. Now if I can just find a place to land this thing.”

“Ah. How about that area over there. There doesn’t seem to be hardly anyone along that street at all. Except for one lone person.”

“Not his lucky day, is it Palps. Oh well. I’ll have ta do it. Here goes nothing…”

While down below, a single Gungan walks the streets with a stiff limp and sore arms.

“Wowsa! Messa lucky the fall didn’t kill poor Jar Jar. Or the stampede. Now all messa needs ta do is find a nice hospital to recuperate. Eh? Whassa noise behind me? Oh no…..NOOOOOOO!!!!”

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Doofuses to the rescue!

High above Coruscant, on board his flag ship, the Invisible Touch, Count Dooku paces his private quarters and ponders his fate.

Never, in the oily darkness that has surrounded me, have I faltered. Never had I lost my footing in the shadows. Nothing has swayed me since I was swallowed into the madness of the Dark Side.

I have stood tall, commanding armies, training assassins, proudly fighting to balance the light and the dark.

Battling against the endless torrent of the foul Light Side, as it sought to extinguish the night.

I simply could not let this be.

So, as a man of principal and endless greed, I formed a lucrative competition. The Brownie Moguls would not own this galaxy. There is no tool more powerful to wield in the Dark Side than Capitalism.

I could have been more... persuasive, as there are multiple compounds, that, when mixed with cigar tobacco, could kill with little trace. It would do you well to remember that, my good Jawa.

In the ancient prophecies, there is to be a balance of light and darkness, good and evil, salty and sweet. The scales have been tipped by my former master.

My Master He is darkness, like the dusk that stealthily follows day, benignly trailing. He is the blackest pitch wrapped in a lie. His pawns wear the armour of knights, but all are expendable.

I suppose it is my lot in this tiresome life to be betrayed at every turn. First, I was ignored by the Jedi, as they denied the rights of races that didn't follow their doctrines, and then there was that time I spent as a Sleestak. Incarceration and that horrid game of Survivor. It is though I were a prolific actor, and the show must go on.

But, again, I felt the pain of betrayal. Or perhaps it was the swirling madness dredging up past indiscretions. This was unforgivable. My vast empire usurped, ripped away from my nurturing hands.

Palpatine had gone far too far, my good people.

McDooku's and Little Dooku Snacks brought in a corporate take-over.

I was, at least, compensated this time.

I suppose that he had found me in a moment of weakness, my vintage Fender Stratocaster in my hands, and brownies on my breath. He manipulated me, as he always had, toying with my fragile sanity, unraveling the frayed tendrils of my mind.

His darkness went far beyond anything I could tap into.

I do look better in black than he ever could, mind you (barring the white spats, as the darkest ensemble requires the utmost class).

As I sit here, with my meager prize in hand, staring into its polished surface, I wonder if it was all worth it. The years of Darkness Correspondence Training (with a minor certificate in TV/VCR repair), brownie flashbacks, and botched magic spells were truly worth the despair and madness that snuffed out the light within. If in my palm was the key to enlightenment, the great leveler, the one ring to rule them all... Wait... What? Never-mind, old chap. Was the trade fair?

Well, it is the most spiffing Yo-Yo this galaxy has ever seen.

"Look! I can make it walk the dog!"

But now it seems like my past has finally caught up with me. It seems those Jedi fools are actually attempting to attack me in a pitiful ploy to grab chancellor Palpatine. I wonder who those high and mighty Jedi chose to dare take me on? I wonder if I’ll have time for a spot of tea before they come on board?

Outside, a war is waged. Clones of the republic battle the droid army of the separatists in ships that resemble x-wing and tie-fighters. No…we ain’t makin’ this crap up.

Two ships among the thousands weave their way through impossible battles, desperate to find their final destination before it is two late.

Obi Wan: Now…now hold on there, Anakin. Don’t yall get too far ahead of me again. We need to work together as a team. Don’t be all fancy like with your flying.

Anakin: Hey, don’t be getting all up in my grill, master. I knows whats ta be done. I was just taking care of the last of these here buzz-kill droids for ya.

Obi Wan: Oh…well…thank you Anakin. I didn’t see them.

Anakin: Didn’t see them? They was all mackin’ on your right wing. If I didn’t scrape them off just now you would be one dead mo***r f*****g Jedi right now.

Obi Wan: Anakin, a Jedi does not use such language.

Anakin: Yeah…whatevs! Damn, I wish I didn’t have that third chili dog before we left on our mission. Ya think the Invisible Touch has a bathroom on board?

Obi Wan: Anakin, keep your mind on the mission. We have to stop Dooku.

Anakin: Yeah, yeah. I know. But I’m cramping bad, dog.

Obi-Wan: Just lead us to the docking bay…where ever that may be.

Anakin: What do you mean? It’s right there!!

Obi-Wan: Right….where?

Anakin: What? Right in front of you. Are ya blind or somthin’?

Obi Wan: What? No…um where? I…uh….smack smack…wait a second…I think I have a small malfunction over here.

Anakin: Malfunction? What kinda’ mal….wait a second! Master did you open up some Cheetoes while fighting in zero gravity?

Obi Wan: Uh… well...uh maybe.

Written by Rebecca/Eric

Friday, October 12, 2007

Now THAT'S Entertainment

It is I, the lovely and talented C-3P0, for the triumphant return of C! Cybertainment Holovision, bringing you the freshest unfound truths of the galaxy.

And have we got a dish in this ish! It seems that there may be the pitter patter of little feet (Jawas and Ugnaughts need not apply) for the Galactic Senate's most beautiful and alluring senator, Mistress Padme Amidala!

We have a first hand, second rate report from Snuggpuggla Gagmag, a Gamorrean clerk at the Younglings-R-Us, at the Coruscanti Mall.

"She, and all her giggly preppie little clones, were looking at baby clothes and sighing a lot. She's so thin, she won't need maternity clothes. She could just do with a pair sweats. I hope she has twins and gets really fat."

Well wishers already! Well, we at C! (Cybertainment Holovision) hope that the rumours are true, as would make for a wonderful story!

Another great, never fact-checked, dish about the Maker himself, Knight Anakin Skywalker. It seems that local Jedi Temple staff have seen the young Knight munching on the new brands of Palpatines snacks, which, as you know, are forbidden to any Jedi. The council have ruled that these salty snacks are filled with preservatives, trans-fatty acids, and dark matter.

When questioned about this delightfully dark bit of rule-breaking, Master Yoda had this to say; "Out of my way, you will move, shiny droid. Nothing I have to say to you about Knight Anakin's deceptions or the fact that, grounded him we have. Without allowance. Hmmf. Spoiled his dinner he did."

Knight Skywalker is grounded? What a heavy handed punishment. We at C! (Cybertainment Holovision) certainly hope that this does not breed any discontentment in the Maker, but we do hope that there are a string of exciting events following this story for us to bring to you, our ravenous fans!

Lastly, we bring you breaking real legitimate actual news on the kidnapping of Chancellor Palpatine.

He was taken from his boring abode in the skyline of Coruscant, by a certain self-imposed Count of Sorenno (which no-one calls him), Jard Thelonius Buckminster Dooku, formerly of the Jedi Order, and now self-imposed Darth Tyrannus (which no-one calls him) is holding the doddering old man hostage.

It seems there is some bad blood between the two, since Dooku traded off his entire food empire for... Goodness, I cannot be processing this correctly. I must be malfunctioning. It says here that Dooku traded it all for a yo-yo.

That's just silly. Far too silly for my wonderful reports. We here at C! (Cybertainment Holovision) will actually have to fact-check that bit of information. It was brought to us by a certain R2-D2, and I know for certain that he is just a miss-wired pile of scrap. He keeps leaving his dirty towels in the botroom floor every morning.

Thanks for reading and keep making saucy news, celebs, so I can keep bringing the scoop to my fabulous fans!

(Written by Rebecca)